in life, death and mario kart.

i smoke too much and sit outside.

I start to contemplate death.  the ever looming foe that everyone knows yet is unwilling to speak of. 

my mother talks to me of genealogy and the importance of our lineage. she has graphs and charts and stories. she understands the importance of tracking these once alive people.  she's the voice of the native Americans in my family. those that would be thrown aside from my blonde hair and blue eyes.  she's the voice of the poor and the rich. all creating a giant tree in reverse.

staircase of where i used to live in portsmouth

she's a reminder, through her stacks of paperwork and online research of the dead.  and it makes me realize my own mortality.  she's doing what my grandfather before her did.

I see my own daughter backwards crawl with delight across the floor and giggle..

Zane asks me why children can never remember this far back.

I explain, "it's because life is far too enjoyable at this point, we are here to be remembrances of her joy, but it's far too great for her to experience herself.  she knows nothing of the bad in this world."

Zane becomes quiet and I realize maybe I hit the nail on the head too hard. 

people speak of the myth of immortality and act as if it is a curse.  perhaps I'm too selfish, but for the ability to do what I'm doing now and forever seems amazing.  to see my daughter play, my friends laugh, my mother tell me she loves me.. it always seems like a passing phase. why can't they be forever?

would the act of forever give less meaning to the thanksgiving dinner? to the 2 year old birthday party?  would it lessen our ties to one another as humans?

perhaps I would value trin less if waking up to him was something that would not last an eternity.  

and maybe that is my problem. realizing it's not all forever. realizing moving friends and new careers are really the end. 

we can't fly to Ukraine every time we want to see our best friend. we have to realize when a breakup is over you can never speak to that one person the same way again. even after the grave. 

it's an end. a definite period to the chapters I once described it. which makes time ever more important. 

i see my daughter grow daily and painstakingly realize the sadness my mother and her mothers before her had to realize. 

that it's all fleeting. 

the trips to Disney World.

the thanksgiving feasts. 

but enjoy it while you can, because I believe the shortness is what makes it amazing. 

I watch my favorite co-workers shuffle across the floor. smiling and enjoying themselves.  I watch people who seem to be unaware of their fate.  maybe they know it and are able to put in up on some grand shelf that i don't realize.  I can't shake the feeling of decomposing, or burning in a kiln.  i can't shake the feeling of not existing anymore.  but they make it to work.  they smile, and kiss their children.  they all hug and make plans for the holidays.

maybe i am too morbid, but perhaps my realization keeps me in check with the ever-exhausting balance of life and death.  I am not the first one to think this idea.  I am sure I am not the last.

age 21, with no care in the world.

I watch Zane open a new level of Mario Kart 8.  I see him pick up the controller with a sheepish grin on his face.  I can never hate the life i've had.  it's all too perfect.  even with it's major trials and tribulations.


((I am sorry this is a dark post))